


Seven Years

by deadto27



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Bucky Barnes Feels, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Fix-It of Sorts, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Steve leaves for seven years instead of seventy, steve writes bucky a letter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 17:27:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18899275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadto27/pseuds/deadto27
Summary: Steve takes the stones back, but he's gone for seven years instead of seventy-something.-----When Steve volunteered to take the stones back, Bucky had an inkling that he was hiding something. But he played his part. He recited their old goodbye. They shared a hug so quick that Bucky barely felt it. Bucky tried to let that be that, but he couldn’t help it. He told Steve he’d miss him. And Steve told him it would be okay, and that was when Bucky knew. Steve was supposed to be gone for five seconds, their time, so why did that sound so much like a goodbye? But Bucky didn’t know what to do. He stepped back, forced a smile onto his face, that he knew didn’t reach his eyes, and he let him go. It took everything he had in him, but he did it.He was certain he’d just said goodbye to Steve Rogers for the last time.





	Seven Years

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't going to do a post-Endgame fic, but then I did. I think I just needed to get it out. It's less a fix-it and more a reinterpretation.
> 
> Very minor warning for a thought of suicide.
> 
> Written for AO3. Do not repost elsewhere.

Bucky listens as Banner counts down. He doesn’t get his hopes up. He just knows that Steve isn’t coming back.

Everything has felt so strange between them. Bucky had felt like he’d awoken from a strange dream, a little bit the same as when he woke from cyro, and then he was told it had been five years. He’d been gone, dead, for five years.

His first thought was Steve. Was he okay? Then there wasn’t much time for thought as he was sent through a portal to yet another battlefield and he wondered to himself when would be the last time. But Steve was there. He didn’t look okay, but he was there, and Bucky would always fight with him, by his side. Actually, he was always fighting _for_ Steve, he realised. He didn’t know when that happened, maybe since forever? He would always fight if his friend needed him to.

But for the first time, Bucky didn’t know if he was needed. Steve didn’t so much as glance at him. He’d hoped to see Steve’s eyes brighten when they found him there, but they didn’t. Bucky tried to reason with himself that they were in the middle of battle. They’d be time for reunions later.

Only there wasn’t.

Steve had to deal with Stark’s death and Bucky found himself left with Sam a lot. At Stark’s funeral he stayed well back, shoving his hands into his pockets because every force inside him wanted to stride forward and reach out for Steve, to comfort him, but Steve didn’t need him. He stood up front, fine on his own.

Bucky tried to hide what he was feeling, but even Sam seemed to notice, squeezing his shoulder. Bucky found himself grateful for that little comfort, found himself grateful for Sam. He was a good guy. Maybe Sam was the guy Steve needed now? Maybe he should just accept that. Maybe he just wasn’t Steve’s best friend anymore. Maybe no matter how hard they tried, maybe they couldn’t get back there.

When Steve volunteered to take the stones back, Bucky had an inkling that he was hiding something. But he played his part. He recited their old goodbye. They shared a hug so quick that Bucky barely felt it. Bucky tried to let that be that, but he couldn’t help it. He told Steve he’d miss him. And Steve told him it would be okay, and that was when Bucky knew. Steve was supposed to be gone for five seconds, their time, so why did that sound so much like a goodbye? But Bucky didn’t know what to do. He stepped back, forced a smile onto his face, that he knew didn’t reach his eyes, and he let him go. It took everything he had in him, but he did it.

He was certain he’d just said goodbye to Steve Rogers for the last time.

But then, as Banner finishes his countdown, there he is. Steve materialises in front of them again and Bucky feels his heart thump against his ribs, a harsh beat of surprise, before it settles back down. It doesn’t make any sense. Steve is back?

Bucky frowns in surprise as Banner greets Steve, and Sam asks how it went, and that’s when he notices. Maybe it’s his serum-enhanced eyesight, or maybe he just knows Steve’s face that well, practically memorising it every time he looks at it, but there are small lines there that hadn’t been there before. Steve is older. Bucky can’t tell by how much, but he is, Bucky is sure. New lines like that—ones that Bucky can notice—that isn’t the work of weeks or months, but years.

“How long?” Bucky chokes out before he can stop himself, interrupting whatever Steve had been saying to Sam that he hadn’t been listening to.

Steve turns to look at him and now his face shows both new lines and guilt. “I…” Steve looks down. “A little longer than I expected.”

“How old are you now?” Bucky pushes. He can’t help himself. He curls his hands into fists in his pockets, willing himself to stay calm.

Steve looks up at him again, finally meeting his eyes. “I, uh…” He lets out a small sigh. “I’m…I was gone for seven years.”

Bucky feels like his chest caves in, but all that comes out of his mouth is a small “oh”.

He stands there as Sam starts asking all manner of questions, and Banner too, pulling Steve’s attention from him, as the reality of what that means really sinks in.

Steve has been gone, living a life somewhere, in some alt world, for seven years. Seven years without his friends, seven years without _him_. They’d had five years taken from them, not to mention the decades before that, but Steve had chosen to take another seven himself. The man who’d promised him _till the end of the line_ , had left him.

“Sam, I need to talk to you about something,” he hears Steve say when he tunes back in to their conversation. Right. Because why would he need to speak to Bucky first, his best friend since childhood?

Sam looks over at him and Bucky nods. He should speak to Steve. He’s Steve’s closest friend now. Bucky gets that now. “Go ahead. I’ll be…” He trails off and waves his hand in the general direction behind him.

He waits until they start walking away, Steve not even glancing at him again, and then turns and strides quickly to the nearby house.

Within minutes he’s taken a motorcycle—who it belongs to, he doesn’t much care—and then he’s gone, driving away, headed for New York.

Steve doesn’t care. He doesn’t need him anymore. Maybe he never really has. Maybe the depth of the friendship Bucky had thought they had was always just guilt. Guilt because Steve couldn’t save him on that train. Guilt because of what Bucky was turned into. Guilt because Bucky could never just rest.

Bucky has never blamed him for any of it. Couldn’t. Because Steve is his best friend, the only constant in his life, the only person on the planet who can understand him, the person who kept him alive. But knowing all that, he’d chosen to be apart from him again. And finally, Bucky’s done. He doesn’t need to hear an explanation, though it doesn’t seem like Steve’s going to give him one anyway. But he doesn’t need one. The only thing he needs to know is the truth and that is that Steve Rogers can live without him.

 

****

 

Strange is surprised to see him when he turns up at the sanctum. But he seems happy to send Bucky on his way, opening a portal as Bucky requests, sending him back to Wakanda.

It’s the only place Bucky has felt safe since leaving Brooklyn for the war. So he goes back. He has nowhere else to go anyway.

Shuri and T’Challa seem happy enough to see him. They were inordinately kind to him when he lived there before—which feels like only a few days ago to him but has apparently been years for all of them. It’s nice that they understand in that way.

He’s allowed back to his old home on the outskirts, away from most people, with the promise that he’ll join them for dinner sometimes. Some of the goats he’d become fond of are still around and he finds himself settling back quickly into his old life with ease.

He pushes down the ache that stays in his heart. Steve can’t live in there anymore. Bucky has to let him go.

Two days after he returns, he receives a video call from Sam—his modest home still filled with ridiculous technological advancements courtesy of Shuri.

“So, you’re in Wakanda,” Sam states as Bucky settles down at his little wooden table and attempts a smile at Sam.

Bucky shrugs. “Figured it’s where I’ve most felt at home lately, so I headed back.”

“But you didn’t tell us.”

Sam sounds a little hurt, though he keeps it from showing on his face. He just looks a little concerned. Bucky musters up a wry smile. “Figured you’d be happy to have me outta your hair.”

Sam shakes his head a little. “I don’t know, man. Kinda got used to having you around.”

Bucky lets out a small sigh of amusement. He never thought Sam would be missing him. Never thought Steve wouldn’t be. “I’m sure you’ll be just fine.”

Sam looks away, somewhere across the room. “Look. Steve’s just outside and he really wants to talk to you. Can I let him in?” he asks, turning back to the screen.

 _Oh, now he wants to talk_ , Bucky thinks bitterly. He shifts in his chair and runs a hand through his hair. “Honestly, Sam, I don’t think we’ve got anything left to talk about.”

Sam sighs deeply. “Look, you’re mad. I get it, alright? I’m mad at him too. But maybe you should hear him out.”

Bucky fixes his eyes on Sam’s. “He left, Sam. He went off for seven years, god knows where, hell, he probably went to be with Carter, and lived a life without m…us,” he corrects himself. “We were dead for five years and I think he moved on. He dealt with the loss. We came back but…” Bucky pauses and swallows. “But he’d already let go. So that’s what I’m doing too.”

“You know it’s not like that,” Sam replies, shaking his head.

Bucky chuckles softly. “Sam, you’re a good guy, but I don’t need you to try and fix this. He…he barely looked at me. And then he left.” Bucky leans back in his chair and musters up, not quite a smile, but what he hopes is an okay look on his face. “I’ve got my life here and I’m doing okay. And Steve’s got his. We don’t need each other anymore.” Of all the lies he’s told in his life, it’s the biggest.

“At least talk to him,” Sam implores him before he’s looking off screen in surprise again and then Bucky hears him.

“Look, I’m sorry, Sam, I know you said to wait, but I need to talk to him,” Steve’s voice rings out clear.

Bucky hangs up before he gets to the screen. He doesn’t even think before doing it. He sits there for a second, annoyed with himself for reacting so strongly. He doesn’t want Steve to worry and think he’s not okay. But when it shows an incoming call again within a few seconds, Bucky ignores it. He can’t bring himself to pick up. It keeps going and Bucky doesn’t know how to turn it off, so he goes outside.

He sits down in the field, looking out over the beautiful Wakandan sunset. One of the goats come and butts its head against him and he pets it lightly on the head. He sucks in a breath of the fresh, clean air. _This is good_ , he thinks. He’s alone, but it’s peaceful here. That’s what he needs, what he wants. He doesn’t need to know why his best friend left him. All that matters is that he did, and that’s enough. He’s fine here.

 

****

 

“Steve! You can’t just barge in on him like this!”

Bucky hears the raised voices coming from outside as he finishes up doing some dishes. That’s Sam’s voice. Panic rises in Bucky and then there it is.

“I have to. He won’t talk to me!”

Steve’s voice. It’s been a couple of days of attempted phone calls, all of which Bucky ignored. He just couldn’t will himself to do it anymore. He didn’t think Steve would just turn up, but maybe his undying guilt leads him to do these things.

“That’s his choice! You can’t just force yourself on him!”

That’s Sam again. Doing his therapy thing, Bucky thinks. He’s all about Bucky’s agency and allowing him choices. Choices that were taken away from him for so long.

There’s a loud knocking on his door. Apparently Steve isn’t as concerned with that. Bucky takes an instinctive step away.

“Bucky? Are you in there? Please, I need to talk to you.”

Steve sounds like his usual stubborn self. Bucky contemplates staying quiet and ignoring him, but he wouldn’t put it past Steve to break down the door if he was that desperate to see him, and Bucky’s never considered himself a coward, so he takes a breath and steps to the door and then opens it.

Steve’s eyes go wide at seeing him. “Bucky,” he breathes out.

Bucky wipes his hand on the dishcloth he didn’t realise he was still holding and then throws it off to the side behind him. “Hey, Steve, what’s up?” He can’t quite meet Steve’s eyes. Doesn’t want to. Figures all he’ll see there is guilt and some pity maybe.

“What’s up?” Steve parrots back, sounding incredulous.

“Hey, Sam,” Bucky continues, looking to see Sam’s just behind Steve now.

“I’m sorry, man, he wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Sam says apologetically, looking pretty frustrated.

Bucky waves him off and steps out, closing the door behind him. He doesn’t want Steve in his space. Doesn’t need to have memories of him in there as well once he’s gone. Again.

He moves past Steve and heads towards his goats to feed them. “What can I do for you?” he asks, aiming the question at both of them, as he grabs a bucket of hay that he prepared earlier and starts scattering it out for the goats.

“What can…” Steve repeats, voice filled with disbelief. “Bucky, you left. You just left.”

“Seems to be a popular thing these days,” Bucky can’t help muttering under his breath, but of course, Steve hears it.

The goats trot around, picking up hay, and Bucky smiles at them as he watches. They always look so cute when they eat, hay sticking out both sides of their mouths, chewing in that sideways way they do.

“I can explain,” Steve starts.

Bucky bends to put down the empty bucket and heads to fetch the water bucket. He avoids Steve’s eyes as he walks past him to get to the tap at the side of the house so he can fill the goat’s water trough up.

He waves his hand vaguely in the air. “There’s nothing to explain. I understand. You deserved to go and live your life. You earned that. I’m happy for you, really.” He tries hard to make it sound true, but he’s not sure if he achieves it. It’s not like it isn’t true though. Steve does deserve to have the life he wants, even if that means Bucky has to face that he’s not a part of it. The only thing he doesn’t know is why Steve came back, but he doesn’t much care to really. Him being back doesn’t change that he left.

“Buck, no. It’s not like that…”

Bucky walks back past him, pouring water into the trough. “You went to be with Carter, right?”

There’s a hesitation. Bucky knows that’s a yes.

“I…I saw her,” Steve starts.

“Didn’t work out?” Bucky guesses, finally turning towards Steve.

He looks flustered. “I…no, I—”

“Hm,” Bucky utters, not all that surprised. He always thought Steve had an infatuation with that woman, but he’d never bought the whole _love of his life_ thing. They’d hardly even known each other. “I guess at least now you know. That’s good, I guess?”

Steve looks like he doesn’t know what to say. “I…”

Bucky turns towards Sam. “You want to head back to the palace? Shuri’s always inviting me for dinner and I bet they’ve got a place set for you guys.”

“Yeah, man, sounds good,” Sam replies softly, looking at him with kind eyes.

Bucky nods and starts walking. “So what have you been up to?” he asks Sam. “You coming, Steve?” he calls back when he realises Steve hasn’t followed and sees Steve startle and then start following.

He keeps up conversation with Sam the whole way, because he can’t stand to hear about Steve leaving him, which he knows is what Steve wants to talk about. At dinner he makes sure Steve isn’t seated next to him. He can avoid talking to him easily enough. Shuri and T’Challa make conversation about how they’re dealing with the effects of the reverse snap, and Steve stays silent for most of it. Bucky chips in, trying to seem happy, explaining to Sam how some of his goats are now five years older than the others.

As it gets late, T’Challa invites Steve and Sam to stay in the palace. Bucky can feel Steve looking at him as he gets ready to leave.

“Well, uh, thanks for visiting,” he says, nodding at Sam and Steve, or at least in Steve’s general direction. “I better get back, check on the goats…” he says, gesturing with his thumb raised behind him. “Have a good night,” he finishes with and then he goes, striding out as quickly as he can without it looking like it’s as quickly as he can.

He hears Steve say his name as he goes, but he doesn’t stop. He hears Sam tell Steve no and to let him go. He thinks again that Sam’s a good guy. He hopes he’ll convince Steve to just go home. Bucky just wants to be left alone. It’s how he always is after all.

 

****

 

If Steve tries to visit again the next day, Bucky doesn’t know. He packs a bag and goes on a trek to see M’Baku, asking Shuri to send someone to feed the goats for a few days, which she happily arranges for him.

It’s good to see M’Baku again. They fought alongside each other on the battlefield and he’s somewhat accepted by the Jabari tribe because of it. He keeps to himself mostly and takes lots of walks out, taking in the Wakandan scenery, thankful for their hospitality.

He ends up staying two weeks. He figures that’s enough time, and he misses his goats. Steve’s sure to have gone off somewhere more important by now so Bucky should be safe.

He arrives back to find the goats have been well looked after, and happily, no Steve or Sam anywhere to be seen.

When he goes into his house, his foot crunches on something and he realises a letter’s been shoved under his door. He bends down to pick it up.

Steve’s handwriting.

He holds it for a few moments, before putting it down on the table. Then he heads to bed.

 

****

 

It takes him eleven days before he decides to open it. He walks past it each day and stares at it before dismissing it. But on the eleventh day, he picks it up. He settles down on his bed and lets out a long exhale of breath. Then he opens the letter.

 

\---------------------------

Buck,

I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ambushed you like I did. I knew it was wrong of me without Sam telling me, but I did it anyway. I just needed to see you. There’s so much I need to say to you, but rightfully, you won’t let me. But I can’t stand you thinking what I think you’re thinking so please, read this. You can do what you want with it, but please, just read until the end.

Five years ago, my world changed. I lost you again. You’d think I’d be used to it, with how many times I’ve lost you in my life, but I never am. Every time, it feels like someone’s cut my heart out. I’m not even sure how much of it’s left in there with how often it’s had to bear the loss of you.

At first there was hope. I swore I would get everyone back. But then Thanos destroyed the stones and the hope went away. We had no options left. We had nothing.

I tried to move on. I told other people to but I never really did. But I did give up. I couldn’t keep going the way Nat did. I had to stop and accept what happened. I had to accept that I lost you again.

The years without you were so hard. I waited for it to get easier but it never really did. It became normal, but not easy. I thought about you every day, endlessly. It took some time for me to realise that it wasn’t normal. Sometimes I thought about giving in permanently. Figured maybe I’d get to see you again that way. The only thing that stopped me was the fact that I knew you’d hate me for it. You’re the only thing that kept me alive for those five years.

I know you had no way to know that. I know that the way I’ve treated you since you’ve been back probably has you thinking I don’t care, when it’s completely the opposite, as opposite as anything can be. But when we got you back...Buck, I couldn’t look at you. Not when it was my fault that you’d been gone. Not when it was my fault that it took five years to bring you back. When I looked at you, all I could see was how much I failed to protect you, failed you in every way. We lost Tony and we lost Nat and all I could think was it should have been me.

Everything that’s happened to you in your life has been my fault. The train, Hydra, Thanos…all of it. Each time I failed to protect you, the one person I care about more than anyone else, have always cared about most. The one person who deserves happiness and peace and who I only ever bring misery.

I hated myself for it. So when I took the stones back, I stopped. Other me went into the ice and I went to find you. And I did. I took you from Hydra. I couldn’t stop everything, but I found you this time. I stayed with you and took care of you. You didn’t remember me at all, at first. But it didn’t take too long before you at least recognised something in me. Took a long time for you to remember our lives though. Months before you truly trusted me. Years before you remembered almost everything.

I never meant to be gone from you so long, but other you needed me. I knew the real you didn’t. Never really did. All I brought you was misery. So I stayed. I convinced myself it was the right thing. It felt right, to be helping you finally. To be able to say that at least in one reality that I saved you.

I finally told you the truth about who I was a few months ago. I didn’t want us to have secrets from each other anymore. You took it surprisingly well, I have to say. But then you realised that I, or the other Steve, was trapped under the ice, and that was that. You went to find him. And somehow it all fell into place. I got to save you, and you got to save me. But mine wasn’t the right you. My Bucky was back where I’d left you.

Still, it was hard to say goodbye to you. But I knew you’d be okay. We had each other there. I won’t deny I went to see Peggy while I was there too. But I saw that she was happy. She moved on, the way I kept telling people to. And I already knew she had a whole full life. And it helped me realise that I’d built up the idea of her so much in my head, but at the end of the day it wasn’t her. It wasn’t her who I couldn’t let go.

I’m so sorry it took me so long. I guess growing up when we did made it hard to realise that what I was feeling for you wasn’t just friendship. I think I’ve loved you for forever. I just never let it in. I told myself we were just the closest of friends, that you were my best guy, but you’re so much more than that. You’re the reason I’m still alive. You’re the person who matters most in my life, over everything and everyone. You’re the person I’d oppose the United Nations for.

I don’t know if you feel the same way. I sometimes think back and picture a certain look you gave me or a smile I was lucky enough to get and I think maybe…If it was a maybe I would be the luckiest man alive. If it’s a no, I can only hope that I can continue to be your friend, as little as that may be worth now. I can only hope that I haven’t damaged us beyond repair by leaving for so long.

I think I might have. That scares me more than anything I’ve ever faced in my life. It’s why I could barely look at you when I returned. I was terrified. You saw straight away that I wasn’t the same Steve who left and I was so scared to explain to you. I wasn’t ready to have that be the last time I ever got to see you.

When I saw you last night, I could see how much I’d hurt you. I could see you putting up a front and I deserved it, but god, I hate it. I hate the wall between us. I can only hope the damaged I’ve caused isn’t irreversible. I can only hope that you’ll read this.

You deserve better, Bucky Barnes. Better than I could ever give you, better than anyone could. But I need you to know that I’m in love with you. With all my heart, in every way someone can love someone.

I hope you’ll talk to me. If you can’t, just know, I’ll always be here, if you ever need me. You’ll always have someone who loves you. I meant what I said, even if it doesn’t seem that way. Till the end of the line.

Yours,

Steve

\---------------------------

 

Bucky stares at the letter in his hands. His hands that are shaking slightly. He stares at it and stares at it as if that will help make it make more sense.

 _In love with you_.

Steve is…Steve thinks he…

Bucky can’t deal with it. It’s beyond his abilities to comprehend. He sits there shell shocked, edges of the paper crumpling as he grips the letter tightly, staring blindly at it.

This isn’t…this was never supposed to happen.

He tries to focus on the other things in the letter. He takes a breath and re-reads parts of it.

Steve went to find him. He succeeded. In whatever world he was in, he found a version of Bucky and saved him. He took care of him and he rescued him, just how Bucky imagined before they first wiped him. He used to dream of Steve finding him and saving him from Hydra. It never happened for him, but it happened for some other version of him.

He doesn’t know what to do with that.

Steve chose to stay with this other him, to take care of him, so he could feel like he managed to save Bucky this time. So he had a second chance at it. Steve thought Bucky didn’t need him, here in their own time…

Bucky takes a shuddering breath in. Steve made him feel that exact way—that Steve didn’t need him, and it felt awful. It felt like there was no point to anything anymore. It felt like his friend had moved on and left him behind. And that’s how Steve had felt?

Bucky thinks back to before Thanos. He’d spent almost two years in Wakanda, some of it in cyro. Steve visited sometimes. Not often. He was always out on missions. Sometimes he’d call on the video-phone and they’d talk and catch up. Bucky always kept it light. They didn’t talk about the past, because Bucky didn’t want to. He was still trying to come to terms with it himself—a monumental task with no end. Bucky always pretended to Steve that he was okay. He wanted to Steve to be happy and thinking Bucky was happy seemed to achieve that. And it wasn’t that he wasn’t happy, or at least content in some ways, but the bright moments were always when Steve was there and when he wasn’t…

Bucky reads the end of the letter again.

 _In every way someone can love someone_ …

That means not just as a friend. Not just as a brother in arms. Not just because they share a past that no one else ever can or will. He loves him…in a romantic way? In a way where he’d want to touch Bucky and hold him? Kiss him?

Bucky remembers thinking about what it would be like to kiss Steve. He knows they were just kids the first time that thought popped into his head. Steve was all small and baby-bird-like back then, but feisty as anything, and Bucky wondered why his ma laughed when he said he wanted to marry Steve. He quickly learnt as he grew older to not say things like that anymore. A child could get away with it. A young man couldn’t.

He pushed the thoughts down. Sometimes they still broke to the surface. Bucky forced himself to take girls out—tried to find a girl for Steve too—so he wouldn’t have to think about the invasive thoughts that came into his head whenever he looked at Steve. He knew it could never and would never be. He never managed to stop the thoughts but he managed to never act on them. He kept his feelings for Steve bottled up.

He’s kept them bottled for so long that he doesn’t feel clear on what they are now. But they’re still there, lingering under the surface, sometimes forcing their way up when Steve would smile at him or hug him or call him _Buck_.

 _You’ve been in love with him for over ninety years_ , a voice in Bucky’s head pipes up.

His heart beats faster as he leans back in his chair, the sudden thought overwhelming him.

Then he starts reading the letter again.

 

****

 

Bucky presses the button that connects him to Shuri. His hand only shakes a little as he does so and then waits for the princess to appear on screen.

“White Wolf, what can I do for you?” she says with a big smile.

“Are you busy? I can call back,” Bucky says as he notices she’s fiddling with something just off to the side of the screen.

“I’m a multi-multi-tasker. What do you need?”

“Do you have a way to contact Steve?” he asks, trying to keep from looking too hopeful. He doesn’t have a number for Steve anymore. He guesses sometime in the five years, it changed.

Shuri flicks her eyes to him and grins. “I have legs.”

Bucky frowns. “Um?”

“Do you want me to walk five doors over and fetch him for you?” she offers with teasing smile.

Bucky freezes. “He’s…he’s still here?”

Shuri nods, hands back to working off screen. “I believe he’s waiting on something.”

Steve’s been waiting for him. Bucky’s taken six days to come to terms with the letter. He didn’t read it for eleven. He was gone for two weeks before that. And Steve’s still waiting. Waiting without pushing, waiting without even knowing if Bucky read it.

Bucky takes a deep breath. His chest squeezes.

“So do you want me to get him or not?” Shuri pushes.

“I…no. Could you just, when you see him, ask him to stop by? Whenever he’s free?” Bucky stutters. He can’t do this by phone, but he can’t seem to make his legs work right then either. Him going to see Steve doesn’t seem to be an option right now.

“I’ll pass on the message,” Shuri agrees before waving at him and then the screen goes black.

Bucky stares in panic for a moment. Steve’s coming here. It’s probably going to be the most important conversation of his life and Bucky might be having a panic attack about it.

He stumbles out of his house, suddenly feeling like he can’t quite breathe right, and heads to the field where the goats are, before he sits in the grass, breathing heavily, trying to control himself. He was the goddamn Winter Soldier, he only knows control, and yet, right now, he’s falling apart.

It’s where Steve finds him some time later. Bucky’s not sure how long he’s been out here when he sees Steve appear on the horizon. He’s striding fast down the hill, but pauses when he finally spots Bucky, sitting in the grass. Then he continues towards him a little slower.

Steve’s hair is all messed up like he’s been tugging his hands through it, and he’s in simple dark jeans and a white t-shirt that reminds Bucky how broad he is now. It feels to Bucky a little like he’s seeing him for the first time, because suddenly he’s allowed to want this—he’s allowed to look and notice how beautiful he’s always found this man. It doesn’t feel like a shameful thought to have, like something he has to hide away. Even so, he’s still nervous.

Steve clearly is too. He’s got the most uncertain expression on his face when he finally reaches Bucky.

Bucky’s still sitting in the grass while his goats frolic around him. “Hey, Steve,” he manages, looking up at him, even more nervous than he can ever remember being.

A tiny smile flickers on Steve’s lips. “Hi, Buck,” he says back softly, waiting where he is a couple of feet away.

Bucky looks down at his hands. “I, um, I read the letter,” he mumbles, looking back up.

Steve’s face gets tenser. In fact his whole body does, like he’s trying desperately to hold back from blurting something, or is waiting for a blow to hit him.

“I think I read it seventeen times or something,” Bucky adds with a tiny quirk of his lips. “There, uh…there was a lot to unpack in it.”

Steve nods slightly, still looking like he’s made of glass that might shatter at any moment, the late afternoon sun glowing on his hair, making him look delicate somehow. “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you face to face but—”

“But I wouldn’t let you,” Bucky cuts in, feeling a little woeful. “Probably better this way,” he continues. “Needed time to process.”

“If you need more time, I can—” Steve starts, but Bucky waves him off.

“No, I…I’m okay.” Bucky pauses and takes a breath. “It was a lot.”

Steve moves his hands into his pockets and looks away. “I know. I…I didn’t mean to overwhelm you.” He sighs slightly. “I’m sorry I left. I just…losing you, not saving you, has been the biggest regret of my life. I couldn’t force myself back here once I realised you were back there, waiting for me to find you, like I never did here.” His voice gets a little choked towards the end and he blinks up at the sky.

Bucky rubs a hand over his temple and finally pushes himself up from the ground so he’s standing facing Steve, a couple of feet away. “That was never on you, Steve. You didn’t know.”

Steve’s head snaps to his. “I _should_ have known. I should have been there. I should have never made you come with me in the first place.”

Bucky smiles now, a little half smile, with an amused exhale. “Steve,” he says, a little admonishingly. “I couldn’t have not followed you.” He pauses, takes a breath. “I couldn’t let the guy I loved go without me,” he finally says, with a hesitant smile and hopeful eyes.

Steve shakes his head. “No, I forced you, I shouldn’t have…” He suddenly stops and his eyes snap to Bucky’s. “Wait…what?” he asks, voice full of disbelief.

“You heard me,” Bucky replies softly, raising his eyebrows.

Steve looks floored. It’s worse than the stunned expression he had when he saw Carter in that bar, Bucky thinks. He looks like his head is spinning.

“You said _loved_ ,” Steve finally says, uttering the words with a little astonishment but also a question there.

Bucky hesitates. “I thought…is that not okay?” He shifts his feet, suddenly not as confident in his words.

“No, I mean…past tense? Is it past tense?” Steve questions, eyes bright but worried, looking like he’s waiting for a miracle.

“Um, no,” Bucky admits, looking at his feet. “It’s an always tense? If that’s a thing?” he says with a glance at Steve, his heart making panicked attempts to escape his chest.

“What?” Steve looks so shocked, Bucky realises how unprepared Steve was for this outcome. Steve must have walked here fully prepared for Bucky to reject him.

“I, um, I told my ma I wanted to marry you when we were nine years old,” Bucky finally tells him, laying himself bare. “Spent the rest of my life repressing that urge,” he says with a little shrug. “Always knew it was impossible.” He lets out a breath, some of the tension leaving him. He’s said it now. It’s out there. He may as well continue.

He looks up at Steve again, at that face he knows so well, and gathers all the courage he has left. “Loved you for forever, Steve.”

Steve’s eyes are wide and he looks like he can’t quite find the words. He makes a couple of aborted sounds and then tries again. “Thirteen,” he finally says.

“Huh?” Bucky frowns a little at him.

“I think I knew when I was thirteen,” Steve says, meeting his eyes again. “You got me a little cake for my birthday and made sure I ate it all. Wouldn’t let me share it with you. Said it was special, just for me. Maybe I didn’t know it then, but I think that was when.”

Bucky feels a little sick and looks down at the grass. “I’m sorry, I…I don’t remember that,” he admits quietly. God, he wishes he could remember that, but everything’s jumbled. He remembers some things and not others. There seems to be no rhyme or reason for what comes back and what doesn’t.

He flinches a little in surprise when he feels Steve’s hand brush his own. “It’s okay, Buck. I remember for both of us,” Steve says softly, and he’s so much closer now. He carefully and slowly links his fingers between Bucky’s, like he’s waiting for Bucky to pull away, but Bucky doesn’t.

He looks at Steve with probably somewhat desperate eyes. “I don’t really know how to do this.”

Steve just smiles gently back at him. “Me either.”

Bucky looks at that face—the face that he hates that he ever forgot, because it’s so kind and full of warmth and looks like home to him—and feels an overwhelming urge to hug Steve. So he does. He leans in and wraps his metal hand round Steve’s shoulder and Steve breaks their handhold and pulls him in tightly against his chest, a soft broken noise coming out of him.

They just hold each other, faces buried against one another, breathing the other in, both unwilling to let go.

“I missed you,” Bucky murmurs to him.

Steve sniffs and Bucky thinks he’s maybe crying. “I can’t lose you again,” Steve says thickly. “I can’t.”

“Then you won’t,” Bucky promises him, squeezing him before finally pulling away.

There _are_ tears on Steve’s cheeks. Bucky reaches up without thinking and wipes them away with his fingers, before taking Steve’s hand again. It’s warm and solid, but still soft somehow, and it makes him feel calm, having that contact. It sort of feels like his hand was always supposed to be feeling this. Like it fits perfectly into Steve’s grip.

“Did you and…other me…did anything…” Bucky trails off. He can’t help but ask, but he’s not sure he wants the answer.

Steve shakes his head furiously. “We didn’t…we were friends by the end, but never anything more. He…he was you but he wasn’t, you know?” Steve says, lines creasing his forehead with worry. “I…I needed you,” he says, eyes willing Bucky to understand.

“So if I kissed you now...” Bucky says, willing himself to be brave, “...it would be the first time?”

Steve’s eyes widen and he looks stunned again.

Bucky decides to take advantage of that fact and he goes for it. It’s a quick, harsh press of lips, because Bucky feels a little panicked and doesn’t think to try going slowly.

It doesn’t matter. It’s in so many ways completely odd but entirely perfect. He just kissed his best friend. The man he’s been in love with for coming up to a century.

Steve is staring at him with wide eyes as he pulls back.

“Sorry,” Bucky says automatically. “Was that…is it okay?” He feels hesitant again, like this can’t really be real.

“Buck,” Steve says in a soft tone, wide eyes changing to something adoring. “If you knew how much I’d thought about that these last few years…” He trails off and reaches out his other hand to Bucky, finally gently resting it on his cheek. “God,” Steve breathes out with such reverence, Bucky feels his chest tighten. “I can’t believe this is real. Is this really happening?” he murmurs, looking into Bucky’s eyes as if searching them.

Bucky lets out an amused exhale. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

Steve smiles, looking a little overwhelmed and still in disbelief, but then he leans in. He does it a lot slower than Bucky did and Bucky takes a breath, trying to brace himself, and then Steve’s lips are on his again.

It’s like nothing he’s ever experienced before. Steve kisses him tentatively, unsure, these light little short touches, sending off shockwaves through Bucky’s entire being. Bucky presses back a little firmer, and every kiss, Steve gets bolder, until their bodies are finally flush against each other and Steve’s hand lets go of his so he can grasp Bucky’s hair.

Bucky’s hands reach up of their own accord to rest on Steve’s face, keeping him there, because Bucky doesn’t want him to pull away for even a second. It’s everything he didn’t know he could feel, didn’t think he deserved to feel. Maybe he still doesn’t, but he’s never giving this up. Steve probably doesn’t know it, but he’s officially signed Bucky up to being by his side for the rest of their lives now. He can’t believe this is happening.

Bucky breaks away with a little choked gasp that he swallows down. “Shit,” he utters.

Steve looks troubled and his hand strokes across Bucky’s hair, setting off all the nerve endings in his head. “Did I do something wrong?”

Bucky shakes his head. “Something right. So very right,” he murmurs in amazement. “I just…it feels so surreal.”

Steve smiles gently. “I know what you mean. I half expect to wake up and have this be a dream.”

One of his goats butts his head against Bucky’s leg as Steve’s talking, and he suddenly remembers where they are. He feels like his euphoria comes crashing down as he comes back to reality for a moment. He moves back a little, so he’s not all tangled up with Steve. Steve lets go of his hair, looking like he’d rather do anything else than let go.

“What…what does this mean?” Bucky asks Steve, before he can ask what’s wrong.

“What do you mean?” Steve replies, face a little puzzled.

“I mean, where do we go from here?” Bucky feels completely unstrung. “How does this…work?”

“I don’t know,” Steve admits. “I want this, I want us,” he adds, eyes fierce now.

“You’re sure?” Bucky can’t help asking.

Steve’s face changes to a pained expression. “I wish I could tell you I’ll never leave you again and have you believe me, but I know I don’t deserve that trust, not after what I did,” he says, voice soft and slow as though he might shatter. “But I do, I mean it.” He reaches out for Bucky’s hand again and squeezes it gently when Bucky allows him to take it. “You’re the most important thing to me in any world, Buck. I really, truly mean it. I want to prove it to you so you never doubt it again. I’ll work every day to prove it to you.”

Bucky can’t help the smile that comes over his face. “You and your speeches,” he teases. Then he wraps his arms round Steve, hugging him tightly.

Steve squeezes him back just as tight.

Bucky pulls back, making them practically nose to nose. “Come inside with me?” he says, less a request than a statement, staring into Steve’s bright blue eyes.

Steve nods, eyes blazing now.

Eventually they go outside again, days later. But Steve never leaves again.

There are finally no obstacles between them. It’s finally their time.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked, let me know? x 
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](https://deadto27.tumblr.com) if you want to hang out.


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